Something in your eyes
by yourlovelylandlady
Summary: One strange night in the life of John Watson. Romance, humor, pre-slash.


**A/N: Hello again and thank you for reading my fics! Here is another little story about our boys. Hope you will like it! And to make it easier: John's thoughts are in _Italic_. **

**Warnings: Unbetaed! My apologies for any mistakes since I'm not a native speaker. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my fantasies. Make no profits. Obviously.**

**xxx**

**Something in your eyes...**

John was tired... even exhausted...

They've just returned to their flat at 221b Baker Street after full two-day course of hiding in some desolate warehouse (_old and dirty_), night rooftop running (_cold wind and ceaseless rain are Sherlock's favorite weather conditions of any time_), almost failing the case as it turned out to be more armed people involved than Sherlock supposed beforehand (_'John, there will be just two-couriers' meeting for secret data exchange, nothing to worry about!'_).

There was not only 'data exchange', but also exchange of fire (_thanks God, he 'accidentally' had fully loaded army handgun in his back pocket_) and a good old hand-to-hand fighting (_well, yes - he was rather surprised at Sherlock's skilful movements_) until they finally immobilized all the bad guys and got back the flashcard with some Top Secret reports stolen from... here John forced himself to stop replaying the latest events in his memory since Mycroft's voice made its sudden appearance in his head with rather clearly pronounced 'nobody has to know about this case' words.

So, John signed and finished his tea (Sherlock was so excited about getting another complicated case successfully solved that kindly decided to pay his attention to mere people needs by making a cuppa for his 'good old Army Doctor', since the latter was 'obviously tired' and needed to 'relax a bit'... there was also some mumbling about his age, but at that moment John made his first gulp of hot tea (milk, no sugar) in the last two days and decided to skip that part of his flatmate's deductions, feeling warmth returning to his chilled to the bones body).

Digital clock on the counter blinked...

_02:34 a.m._

John rubbed his eyes, stretched lazily and yawned. Then he made himself leave his old comfy armchair.

'Off to bed. Good night, Sherlock'

(no answer from behind the microscope)

and John headed upstairs.

_'Yeah… at last…'_, - he thought wrapping himself warm in the blanket, feeling muscles tension going down, adrenaline leaving his body.

John closed his eyes.

Random thoughts were flowing slowly through his drowsy mind...

_Who would have imagined his life changed so extremely after meeting that one 'world's only consulting detective'..._

_Bart's laboratory... _

_Yes... there... _

_that happened... _

_first time... _

_Sherlock... _

_tall... _

_curly black hair... _

_penetrating gaze... _

_Life afterwards became like some kind of espionage movie... an adventure..._

_almost unreal... _

_his real life..._

'What do real people have in their 'real lives'?' - mellow baritone echoed in John's head sending some familiar sweet feelings beneath his belly button...

_Feelings... yeah... _

_It's all fine... _

'I know, it's fine'...

John looked at Sherlock...

Street lights being reflected in the man's eyes made them sparkle with millions of colors, and it seemed to John for a moment that a cunning smile briefly flickered in the corners of those impossible eyes...

John blinked...

Subdued light from the corridor outlined tall figure standing in the doorway...

The man quietly slipped into the bedroom closing the door behind him.

John raised himself a little on his elbows.

'Sherlock... what are you...'

One imperceptible movement and the dark shadow was leaning over him pressing its fingers to John's lips...

'Shhh...' - his night guest whispered putting other hand to John's chest and making him lean back to the pillows...

_Those eyes again... _

_but now dark… and danger... and wanting..._

_and at the same time… tender… and careful… and doubting…_

John closed his eyes…

'John'… _whisper_… and he felt light breath on his cheek…

something touched his lips… _warm and soft_…

and then the kiss became deeper…

_Oh_…

* * *

He woke up at once… took a deep breath… his eyes opened wide, staring at the ceiling…

He turned his head slowly…

_sunlight… gentle breeze… seems the window is opened… morning…_

_nobody is here…_

_he is alone… _

_in his room… _

_in his bed…_

_in his perfectly tidy bed… _

_So, it was a dream… just a dream... so vivid one though… _

_or maybe?… _

_No… only a dream… _

_Ok… _

_Well…_

* * *

About an hour later, John came downstairs to find Sherlock sitting at the kitchen table, reading newspaper.

'Morning, John. Sleep well?'

'Well… yeah… think so…' – John poured himself a cup of coffee (_seems very much alike… hopefully…_) and flopped onto the opposite chair.

'You?'

'Pretty well, indeed'

'Really?' – John raised his head to look at his flatmate. And it seemed to him for a moment that a cunning smile briefly flickered in the corners of those impossible eyes...

_Oh…_

**xxx**

**So, any ideas about what had happened that night? Was it just a dream of a tired Doctor or our dear Detective really put something in his friend's tea (for some 'experimental purposes')? ;-) What do you think?**


End file.
